


A Winter's Veil Miracle

by Yulicia



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mists of Pandaria, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 11:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17079287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yulicia/pseuds/Yulicia
Summary: As the Siege of Orgrimmar looms on the horizon Wrathion is asked to accompany Anduin back to Stormwind for the Holidays. There, amongst the lights of the city, their friendship blooms into something more.





	A Winter's Veil Miracle

It was over a casual game of jihui that Anduin announced his predicament.

“Father has requested I return to Stormwind for the Holidays.”

“Oh,” Wrathion replied trying and failing not to sound completely crushed.

Anduin smiled. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Oh,” Wrathion repeated, though this time there was far more hope in his tone.

Wrathion paused in thought. Then he blinked. “Me? You want to bring a black dragon into the heart of Stormwind? Oh dear, my Prince, that sounds like a terrible idea indeed.”

He hated the words coming out of his mouth but he couldn’t stop them. What if he ruined his one chance to see Anduin in his home, comfortable and safe?

Anduin faltered for a moment, opening his mouth to speak. His jaw snapped back shut for a moment and his brows furrowed.

“You don’t want to come?”

Oh Azeroth, Wrathion thought, Anduin had sounded so hurt.

“Of course I do. I am just concerned about the logistics of this. I don’t believe your Father would appreciate my presence.”

Anduin’s eyes widened. “I’ve already asked him. You’d be welcomed.” There was such excitement barely concealed in his voice. He sounded almost breathless. It was enchanting.

Wrathion was stunned into a momentary silence. “You asked him?”

Anduin nodded.

“Were you sure he was in his right mind when he said those things.” Wrathion’s eyes narrowed. “...You didn’t mind control him did you?”

Anduin leaned across the table to give Wrathion’s wrist a friendly but disapproving slap. “Wrathion!” he scolded.

Anduin leaned back and let out a huffed breath. “I suppose he might want to see what all the fuss over the fabled Black Prince is about.”

Wrathion was taken aback by what he took as Anduin’s praise. He, of course, knew that anyone would be delighted to meet him - he just didn’t expect Anduin to say so so plainly.

Wrathion cleared his throat. “Of course I’ll accompany you. I’m honoured that you asked.”

The open smile he received was well worth his answer.

——

In the beginning weeks of December the pair made their way to the Shrine of the Seven Stars.

They took the route through the mountain pass and bypassed some of the terrain in the air. Wrathion was more than happy to stretch his wings and let the cool Pandaria air rush over his scales. Anduin, aided by his gryphon, had been flushed and red-nosed and had looked positively miserable by the end of the flight.

When they arrived in the Shrine Anduin took care to cover himself with a simpler, dark brown shawl. He wanted to take Wrathion through the open civilian portal to Stormwind but he didn’t wish to call attention to himself, knowing he’d get questions.

Wrathion, however, did not seem to have the same concern. He looked as gaudy and obvious as he always did, his flashy armour like a lighthouse steering every prying eye towards them.

As they made their way to the portal Wrathion spotted someone looking at him. She was a draenei; an adventurer he recognised as one of his champions. He caught her eye just as she raised an eyebrow quizzically. He shrugged, gesturing vaguely to Anduin by his side. Her eyes flicked to Anduin and let back to him. She smiled slyly, her grin seeming to say that she knew something he didn’t. The moment was fleeting and she was gone quickly, disappearing into the buzz of the Shrine.

“Ready?” Anduin’s voice caught his attention. They were standing in front of the Stormwind portal, the city shimmering in the magical opening.

Wrathion nodded and they stepped through.

When they arrived they landed in the portal room of the Mage Tower. There were several Mages milling around the room, checking the stability of their portals and assisting those who had lost their bearings during their magical travel.

Wrathion turned to his side, looking for his companion. Anduin was one step ahead of him, already moving to get out of the way of further portal traffic. Wrathion was still rather confused as to why Anduin had insisted they take the civilian route of travel instead of teleporting directly to the keep with the help of the Royal Mages but Anduin had insisted this was ‘part of the experience’. Whatever that meant…

Anduin easily guided the pair through the exit to the Mage Tower, weaving expertly through the crowds milling around the tower. As they stepped out into the Mage District Wrathion had expected to be assaulted with sunshine. Anduin had always told him that it was a blessing that Stormwind got so much sun. Instead he was greeted with the strangest sight: snowfall.

“I didn’t think it snowed in Stormwind,” Wrathion mused.

“Oh, it doesn’t,” Anduin replied.

Wrathion must have frowned because Anduin continued to explain further.

“Well not naturally anyway; we’re much too close to Stranglethorn and Blackrock for that. But there’s been a group of adventurers around lately who have found some stones that can change the weather temporarily. I’m told they found them in Pandaria.”

Wrathion paused, thinking. “It does not seem wise to toy with the elements like this.”

Anduin laughed, a small little sound. “No, I suppose it doesn’t, does it? But it hasn’t caused us too much trouble yet and we don’t have to go to Ironforge to see snow so it can’t be all that bad.”

That logic seemed dubious at best but Wrathion didn’t want to get into it. He knew they’d be debating for hours if he said something and he’d like to get to the Keep at some point today. He’d leave this until they returned to the Tavern.

Anduin strode onwards, carefully glancing behind him once to check that Wrathion was following him. Once he was satisfied that Wrathion would follow his lead he only looked onwards.

Anduin took them across the Canals towards the Trade District. The water there was beginning to freeze over, not yet completely ice but certainly on it’s way. There was a couple sitting on the edge of the bridge, laughing about something that couldn’t quite be heard. They were both in heavy sweaters, a matching pair with one blue and one gold.

Wrathion spared them a glance but did not have time to linger as Anduin was already dragging him away from the Trade District.

“We’re not going in?” Wrathion asked.

Anduin shook his head. “No, no, it’s much too crowded this time of year. Besides, I’d rather show you Cathedral Square instead.”

Wrathion nodded quickly, following Anduin’s lead. As Wrathion looked closely he could still see that Anduin favoured his left leg over his right. Anduin no longer walked with a cane as he had when he had first arrived in the Tavern In The Mists but Wrathion knew his injury still caused him some pain.

Seeing this Wrathion sped up, coming to walk at Anduin’s left side. He held out his arm as an offering. Anduin simply stared at the arm like it was something foreign.

“I can see right through you, my dear Prince.”

Anduin raised an eyebrow at that. He followed Wrathion’s gaze down to his leg. Then it all clicked into place. He accepted the arm gratuitously, looping his own around it. He sighed in relief.

“Thank you.”

Wrathion gave no response but to smile. It looked startlingly genuine.

As they continued towards Cathedral Square Anduin wondered what a sight they pair of them made. The Prince of Stormwind clinging to the arm of a black dragon, one of Stormwind’s most hated enemies.

He should have been frightened at the prospect of being caught in the open like this but he found himself rather not caring. He was too preoccupied with the relief the arm provided in taking even a fraction of the weight off of his injured leg. It also helped that Wrathion was quite warm, his heat starving off the artificial chill of the snow.

Outside of his draconic form Anduin thought Wrathion looked quite normal amongst the people of Stormwind. A little flashy, perhaps, but otherwise not _terribly_ unusual. Wrathion either didn’t have horns in his mortal form or hid them beneath his turban and his fangs were hidden inside his mouth while he wasn’t talking (a rarity, Anduin had to admit - Wrathion certainly loved the sound of his own voice). His eyes were definitely not human but glowing eyes themselves weren’t exactly a rarity within Stormwind’s walls with the Kaldorei, Draenei and their more recent Death Knight allies becoming frequent visitors.

Or perhaps Anduin was just trying to convince himself that his companion wasn’t the most obviously inhuman individual he’d ever been seen with. Completely possible.

Anduin, lost in thought, hadn’t realised they’d made it to the Cathedral of Light. Anduin immediately felt a sense of warmth flow through him and the proximity to the holy place. This place felt like a second home to him.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Anduin said, leading Wrathion towards the entrance.

“Confident I will not be smited on sight I see,” Wrathion said.

Anduin shot him a look. “Not unless you really start causing trouble.”

“No promises,” Wrathion joked, smirking.

As they entered Wrathion discovered pleasantly that he had not been disintegrated by the Light and was completely unharmed. A rather surprising urn of events.

They couldn’t stay long so Wrathion simply watched as Anduin breezed around the church halls, greeting the trainers casually. He seemed truly at home here. Wrathion idly wondered how often Anduin visited this place.

Wrathion felt like quite the outsider standing amongst the priesthood. It was rather unsettling and he knew he was getting some stares. Anduin didn’t seem to notice them, but Wrathion certainly felt them.

Thankfully he didn’t have to endure it for long as with a quick farewell and a promise go return Anduin was already leading him out the door so that they may continue their journey towards Stormwind Keep.

By the time they made it to the keep it was already well into the afternoon, the pair having arrived during the late hours of the morning. The snow was still falling, a gentle and not unwelcome spectacle. It had not yet become heavy enough to cause any tremendous effort.

Walking through the Keep courtyard door Anduin sighed. It felt like he hadn’t been home in years. Pandaria was wonderful and completely awe inspiring but the gates of Stormwind Keep were a comfort unlike any other. He felt safe here, and the familiarity of Wrathion beside him only added to the homeliness of the place.

His nice moment was somewhat ruined however by a snort from Wrathion. Anduin searched for what Wrathion was looking at and his eyes fell upon the massive stone statue of his father right by the entrance steps.

“Nice,” Wrathion commented.

Anduin flushed pink. “Shut up.”

Anduin tugged at Wrathion’s arm, dragging him away from the statue before he could be embarrassed further. He can’t believe he’d forgotten about that. Wrathion was still laughing quietly to himself even as they began to climb the steps.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the Keep doors. Anduin’s leg definitely felt worse for having climbed all of the stairs but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He had certainly felt worse. He grit his teeth and continued onwards.

Anduin led Wrathion down the main hallway towards the throne room. As they entered the throne room Anduin was met with the familiar sight of his father standing by the throne, deep in conversation with King Genn Greymane.

As they came closer Varian caught his eye and beamed, a grin spread across his scared face.

“One moment, King Greymane,” Varian said, stepping away from the throne. Genn seemed confused at the intrusion for a moment but smiled knowingly once he noticed Anduin.

Varian approached his son. “Anduin! I was beginning to worry.”

Anduin laughed at that. “Of course you were.”

Varian raised a brow. “Don’t you give me that. I’m glad you made it here unscathed.”

Anduin stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Varian. Having not hit a growth spurt yet he was still much shorter than the King, only yet reaching his shoulder. “As am I. Happy Winter’s Veil father.”

Varian in turn brought his arms around his son. “Happy Winter’s Veil Anduin.”

Wrathion felt like quite the outsider once again in all this. It brought a pang to his chest to watch Anduin with his father. It brought back the silly notion of wishing for a loving parent of his own - a thought that he’d thought many times before. It was a particularly foolishly frustrating thought. He was a dragon. He was a prince. He needed no-one. Needed to need no one.

Wrathion was broken out his moment of self-pity by Varian’s voice.

“Is this him?” He spoke, his question directed at his son.

Anduin nodded. “Yes. Wrathion this King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind, High King of the Alliance. Father this is the Black Prince Wrathion, Son of Deathwing and the last of the Black Dragonflight.”

Varian stepped closer to Wrathion, looming over him. The King’s face was set in stone, his questioning gaze boring into him. Wrathion stood his ground, staring right back.

“Wrathion. I’ve dealt with your kind before. I hope that you are not like they were,” Varian said, threat loud and clear. This wasn’t exactly as welcoming as Anduin had made it seem.

“Father,” Anduin spoke, feeling the tension in the room and attempting to break it, “I assure you Wrathion is nothing like Lady Prestor was.” Anduin seemed to shiver at the very sound of her name.

Varian’s stare softened with his son’s assurance. “Watch yourself,” was all Varian said before turning back to speak to Anduin.

Anduin shot Wrathion a sympathetic look from behind Varian’s back.

“I must return to my discussion with King Greymane. The feast will be served in a few hours time so don’t stray too far. The matron and her orphans brought by some of those ginger cookies too - they’re in the kitchens if you’d like some.”

Anduin’s heart jumped at that - those cookies were one of the best parts of Winter’s Veil. “Of course, we’ll be back before supper.” Anduin tugged at Wrathion’s arm, leading him towards a door at the side of the throne room. “Follow me.”

Wrathion went willingly, feeling rather lost in the mighty grandeur of Stormwind Keep. His eyes trailed along the rafters at the top of the tall ceiling even as Anduin pulled him away.

Anduin led the pair down a well lit corridor, seeming to travel through this place as if he could do so with his eyes closed. Wrathion breathed deeply, smelling the familiar smell of garlic and onion wafting from the room at the end of the hallway. As they approached what Wrathion assumed was the kitchen he could feel the air beginning to warm. He sighed, the temperature finally raising a little higher towards something he’d prefer.

Anduin ducked into the kitchen, narrowly missing one of the kitchen staff whizzing past.

“My apologies, sir,” Anduin said quickly. Wrathion blinked at the sudden formal address.

The man they’d narrowly missed colliding with was a large, portly man. He had a thick moustache and a friendly face, but not much hair on his head. What was there was a dusty shade of brown.

“Ah, Prince Wrynn! You’ve gotten taller!” The man boomed, his voice befitting his size.

“That’s unlikely, Mr. Williams, it feels like I haven’t grown in years,” Anduin replied.

“Ah, it is always harder to see your own growth I am sure!”

Anduin laughed. “I suppose it is!”

With a parting good natured chuckle Mr. Williams left to continue doing whatever it was that he was doing. With him dispatched Anduin slunk over to the counter where a plate of cookies lay. He took them, looking like a kid stealing desert’s leftovers. Which, Wrathion supposed, he kind of was.

With cookies in hand Anduin led Wrathion up one of the Keep’s towers, along a winding staircase. Anduin had to pause rather frequently as the ache in his leg grew too much but in some time they made it to the top and into Anduin’s quarters. He had clearly chosen this location prior to the incident with the Divine Bell if the frown of pain on Anduin’s brow was any guess.

“I need a moment, if you’ll allow me,” Anduin breathed, limping towards the bed in the centre of the room. He sat down heavily, leaning against a canopy pole at the end of the frame. He sighed, the pain already lessening with the weight taken off of his leg.

“I’m your guest, you can do as you like.”

Anduin snorted. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

Wrathion smiled. “Perhaps.”

Wrathion frowned, looking at Anduin kneading his fingers into his aching calf. He stepped closer. “Allow me?” Wrathion asked, approaching the bed beside Anduin.

Anduin held out a hand, giving Wrathion permission to sit. Wrathion sat at Anduin’s side and let Anduin place his leg across Wrathion lap. Wrathion removed his gloves and brought his hands to his mouth. He breathed deeply and warmed his hands with his smoldering breath. It would have been painful for mortal hands but for him it was but a comfortable warmth.

Wrathion brought his hands down onto Anduin’s leg, letting the heat sink into his aching and tense muscles. Wrathion could quickly feel Anduin beginning to relax under his warmth, his pain beginning to fade once more into something manageable. This was familiar - Wrathion had helped the Prince with his aching limb while at the tavern before.

They stayed like that for longer than Anduin truly needed, but neither wanted to pull away. They sat in silence, simply listening to the faint sounds of the city outside and enjoying each other’s presence. Anduin was sure Wrathion would be offended if he told him but Anduin really did enjoy these moments where Wrathion wasn’t speaking. Not because he didn’t like Wrathion’s voice, no, but because he never felt he had to fill the comfortable silence with something.

Once Anduin couldn’t possibly excuse their position any longer he swung his leg off of Wrathion’s lap, letting it fall in line with its pair.

“Thank you,” Anduin said, and he really meant it.

Wrathion simply smiled, the expression oddly shy, as if he wasn’t sure he was supposed to have done it.

Anduin got up, walking over to a set of drawers in the corner of the room. “I have something for you,” Anduin announced, “A Winter’s Veil gift.”

Wrathion’s curiosity was immediately piqued. He raised a brow, his crimson eyes following Anduin.

Anduin reached inside of his drawers and pulled out a box covered in bright blue wrapping paper with a white bow stuck on the top. It wasn’t large, and was easy enough for Anduin to carry over to the bed. He held it out, encouraging Wrathion to take it.

Wrathion did just that. He began tearing away the wrapping paper, revealing a plain white box beneath it. He opened the box and reached inside.

Inside was something soft and something white. Wrathion pulled the gift from the box, holding it in front of him so that he could see it clearly.

It was a whelp. A plushie dragon whelp, clearly designed to be cute rather than realistic. It was mostly white, the fabric where scales would be a fuzzy alabaster felt, while the soft belly of the dragon was a creamy yellow. It was soft, with thread sewn eyes and squishy horns on its head. It’s wings were much too small and flopped down against the creature’s back.

“I had it commissioned some time ago,” Anduin said, “about a month after we met. The plan was originally for the whelp to be black but the artist insisted it be white instead.”

Wrathion frowned at the plush. Anduin grew nervous at the expression. Did he hate it? Did Wrathion think this was insulting? Oh Light he should have thought this through more...

“I just, I heard— I heard you were the last of your flight and I thought it might be nice to maybe I don’t know,” Anduin’s voice grew small, knowing the next words out of his mouth were going to sound incredibly silly and rather childish, “make you a friend?”

Wrathion barked a laugh at that, and then kept laughing dissolving into giggles. “This is wonderful,” Wrathion said around laughter, “Oh, Anduin, I love your mind.”

Anduin then laughed, the sound brought of nerves. “You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Wrathion nodded, “Yes I think I rather do.”

Anduin breathed a sigh of relief.

Wrathion couldn’t believe Anduin had thought so much about this thing and it was incredibly touching how concerned he had sounded. In truth Anduin hadn’t needed to create a friend for Wrathion at all, for he’s all the companionship Wrathion felt he needed.

“It kind of reminds me of you,” Wrathion said. The statement confused Anduin. He wasn’t a dragon but he knew he’d sound silly reminding Wrathion of that so chose to remain silent, accepting the statement as it was.

Wrathion put the plushie back into its box, putting it aside and standing up.

“I have something for you as well,” Wrathion said, stepping closer. “I was going to give you this back at the tavern but now seems as good a time as any.”

Wrathion held out his palm and with one quick motion of his clawed hand cut a line across his skin, letting blood rise to the surface. Wrathion didn’t flinch but Anduin couldn’t hold back a surprised and rather concerned gasp.

Wrathion closed his cut hand tightly and closed his eyes, breathing steadily.

“Hold out your hand,” Wrathion instructed. Anduin did just that.

Wrathion held his closed palm over Anduin’s open one. When Wrathion opened his hand to press something solid into Anduin’s hand Anduin felt his warm skin brush against his own. He only just barely held back a shiver.

When Anduin looked down at his palm he saw a red gem sitting there. It seemed to glow with a strange energy and was a darker red than any ruby.

“It’s a communication gemstone of my own making. If we are parted any significant distance we will be able to speak through this,” Wrathion explained, “I know that we will not always be able to see each other in person as we do now, but this will close the gap distance creates.”

Anduin started at the gemstone. This was made specifically for him. This was created from Wrathion’s very blood. It was admittedly a little grotesque but Anduin couldn’t begin to imagine was this means. Wrathion trusts him with a literal part of himself. Anduin swore he felt his heart grow ten times larger.

“I— Thank you, Wrathion. It’s beautiful,” Anduin said once he could stop his mouth from hanging open in awe.

Anduin, in a fleeting and impulsive moment, couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Wrathion’s cheek. It was quick and over before Wrathion had truly realised what was happening. “Thank you,” Anduin repeated once he pulled away. Anduin closed his hand around the chest, pressing his fist tightly against this chest. “I will treasure this.”

Wrathion stood stunned, his cheek tingling with the memory the press of Anduin’s lips had left. He knew his eyes must be wide open. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some composure. He had never quite understood human friendship customs but something told him that what Anduin had done usually wasn’t usually part of the deal.

Before Wrathion could dwell to long on it, however, Anduin had pulled a jihui board from inside one of his drawers.

“We still have some time before the feast, how about a round?” Anduin asked.

“You’re on,” Wrathion replied.

“Please try to work with me this time.”

“No promises.”

Predictably, as he always did, Wrathion had attempted to work against Anduin rather than with him and it had caused them both to lose. It seems hardwired into Wrathion at this point not to accept Anduin’s aid and he didn’t think that was going to change any time soon. It was okay though, Anduin didn’t mind losing that much. He’d begun to much prefer Wrathion’s company alone than the game itself.

By the time they had finished their game it had begun to grow dark. Breathing deeply Anduin could smell the faintest smell of food cooking.The feast must be being served soon.

Anduin got up from the table and headed towards the door but stopped abruptly halfway there and turned around. He looked at Wrathion, studying him.

“What’s the matter?” Wrathion asked.

“Are you able to remove your turban?”

Wrathion barely bit back a laugh. What a silly question. “Of course I can.”

“Will you?” Anduin countered.

“If asked nicely.”

Anduin rolled his eyes.

“Please take off your turban.”

Wrathion smiled, mischief in his eyes. “Why?”

“Wrathion,” Anduin warned.

“What? I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. What if you steal a strand of my hair and cast ones of your spells on me?”

“Wha— Wrathion I’m not a witch!” Anduin spluttered. Anduin sighed a heavy breath through his nose.

Anduin stomped over to this drawer, digging deep into it. After some rummaging he pulled out two pointed hats, both made of a fuzzy velvet, one dyed green and one dyed red. They both had a fluffy pom pom sewn to the end and the rim of the hats were adorned with dusty white fur.

“They’re Winter’s Veil hats. Would you like to wear one?”

Wrathion shrugged. “Red please.”

Anduin snorted, a truly undignified sound for a Prince to be making. “Of course.”

Wrathion reached up and removed the turban from his head, placing it on the bed nearby. Anduin simply started for a moment. He’d never seen Wrathion without his turban on. It was… weird, like seeing someone who wore eyeglasses without them for the first time.

It turned out Wrathion did have something under there. Anduin has always joked that Wrathion kept his secrets within his headwear but in reality all that was there was a mop of curly brown hair and a pair of curved horns, not dissimilar to some styles Anduin had seen on the draenei, just smaller. It was awfully normal, considering.

Wrathion was looking at the Winter’s Veil hat, staring at it like it had just asked him an incredibly difficult riddle. He brought it to his head and shoved it over his hair, pressing it down. He ended up with a few strands in his eyes and quickly battered them away, tucking them under the fur. He really truly looked ridiculous.

Anduin, not one to leave a friend on their own, quickly put his own green hat over his hair. He smiled at Wrathion who grinned back.

“This is incredibly unbecoming, my dear Prince.”

Anduin laughed. “It’s the holidays, I’m allowed to look ‘unbecoming’.”

Wrathion thought that that didn’t sound right but he didn’t exactly know enough about Winter’s Veil to disagree.

With their hats donned the pair made their way down into the main hall, just off to the side of the Throne Room. There was already a dining room with a table already set. Varian often had to accomodate guests and the size of their dining room table certainly reflected that.

His father was already sat at the head of the table. Tonight they would only be using the top end of the table as the only guests were King and Queen Greymane, their daughter, and Wrathion himself. Anduin noticed the absence of a common guest - Jaina Proudmoore. Anduin’s heart dropped at the empty chair where she should have been. He knew Varian and her were not on the best of terms right now but he still ached at her absence.

They took their seats, Anduin by Varian and Wrathion in the chair beside him, across from Queen Mia Greymane. Mia barely looked up as he sat, instead preferring to stay locked in conversation with her daughter beside her. Wrathion couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about as their voices were quiet and soft but as the pair broke out into giggles he found himself endlessly curious.

Varian looked to the pair as they sat, giving a smile and a nod to Anduin and a more wary look to Wrathion. Beyond that he didn’t say much, seeming to be continuing the conversation with King Greymane from earlier. That wary look worried Wrathion. He needed King Wrynn on his side in more ways than one.

Thankfully the food arrived not long after the pair had arrived so Wrathion didn’t have to dwell on that thought for too long. The feast set before them was traditional and simple, with dishes of steamed and roasted vegetables surrounding and an impressive pork ham centerpiece. The food smelled delicious and Anduin felt his mouth watering.

The food was quickly based around and everyone took a healthy serving of whatever they liked. Anduin noticed that Wrathion had chosen not to partake in any of the vegetable dishes and was instead exclusively eating meat. Had Anduin inquired about this Wrathion would have snidely reminded the Prince that he was a dragon and therefore carnivorous and Anduin would be forced to face a world of embarrassment. Thankfully however, he chose not to ask and simply decided to focus on his own meal instead.

Anduin mumbled a quick prayer to himself before beginning to eat. He was rather hungry, having not had much to eat since he arrived in Stormwind besides a few of the cookies over their juhui game. The group ate in relative silence, the sounds of clinking plates and forks oddly comforting.

It wasn’t until they had almost finished their meal that Varian spoke.

“I hear you’ve become known amongst the Horde.”

Anduin swallowed thickly. He didn’t like where he thought this conversation was headed.

Wrathion, however, was unphased.

He nodded. “I have required their services.”

Varian hummed. “Oh?”

“Of course, I need every hand I can get.”

Varian squinted, but he didn’t press further. He didn’t exactly seem satisfied with the answer but he could see the worry growing in his son and decided it would perhaps he was better off to leave this for another time.

Thankfully for Anduin’s blood pressure the rest of the night passed relatively easy. The food was good, desert was better and the conversation was light and unlikely to end in anyone’s bloody murder. Even Wrathion’ strange eating habits didn’t seem to disturb their dinner guests too badly which to Anduin was nothing short of a miracle.

By the end of the night they were full, warm and content. The pair were excused from the table after the meal as Varian still had something to discuss with Genn. Anduin was a little disappointed he wasn’t able to spend more time with his father today but understood the pressure he must be under, what with the siege of Orgrimmar beginning soon.

Anduin led Wrathion out into the Throne Room and then suddenly stopped as if he had been struck. Wrathion looked at him in concern but Anduin had already grabbed his wrist and begun leading him out the front of the Keep.

As they passed by Varian’s statue Wrathion realised that Anduin was still holding onto his wrist despite the fact that Wrathion was already following him. He wasn’t rough and his grip was loose but it made Wrathion’s brain stall for a moment - Anduin had not done this before.

Wrathion had been picking up some strange things about Anduin lately and that moment back in his quarters particularly haunted him. It seemed as though Anduin was hinting as something he couldn’t quite grasp. It was frustrating. He had just begun to understand the Prince of Stormwind and now he went and shifted gears, this wasn’t fair at all!

Wrathion finally looked up and saw that they were somewhere by the side of the Keep Wrathion didn’t recognise.

“Where are we going?” Wrathion asked.

Anduin simply smiled. “You’ll see.”

Wrathion hated those two words. He wasn’t particularly fond of surprises. It was difficult to plan ahead when you didn’t know what was coming. Nevertheless, he followed along dutifully anyway, his trust in Anduin overriding his general unease.

Anduin led them up a hill and soon the pair found themselves on a cliffside overlooking Stormwind. Anduin sighed and sunk to the ground, sitting cross legged in the short, health green grass by an Elwynn pine tree.

Anduin looked up at Wrathion and smiled, gesturing at him to sit. Wrathion easily complied, sinking down to sit at Anduin’s side.

The view from where they sat was quite the sight. They were so high up that they could almost see all of Stormwind, with only parts of the Docks and the Dwarven District hidden from their view. The Keep stood tall and mighty and Wrathion could see that it was much more impossing than he had originally given it credit for.

It was beginning to grow dark, the sun already having dimmed and lost it’s orange glow. Their hill was still well lit with moonlight, as was most of Stormwind. With the sun set however it was easy to see all of the little lights from the houses, the charming pockets of life within the city.

Wrathion had to admit this was rather beautiful. Before arriving he had not thought much of Stormwind but now he could see the majesty of it that Anduin would describe to him.

“Look,” Anduin said, breaking the silence. “It’s still snowing.”

“You really do like this nonsense don’t you?”

Anduin decided not to be hurt by Wrathion’s admittedly callous wording. “Of course. Do you not?”

Wrathion snorted, puffing smoke from his nostrils. “Rather too frigid for my tastes.”

Anduin laughed. “Sorry, I forget sometimes.”

Wrathion held back the instinct to roll his eyes. Trust Anduin to be one of the only people who could possibly ever forget he was a dragon. It was usually his most defining feature. He was the very last black dragon after all.

“I remember,” Anduin said abruptly, knocking Wrathion from his thoughts, “When I was very little my Father and I used to take a day during Winter’s Veil and spend time in Dun Morogh. We’d go sledding and eat sweets until we felt sick.”

Wrathion, for one of the first times he could remember, was at loss to what to say. So he said nothing, only turned to make sure Anduin knew he was listening

“That obviously stopped when he disappeared, and we’ve never gone since. He hasn’t— _We_ haven’t had the time.”

Wrathion felt a foolish sense of guilt, knowing it had been Onyxia, one of his own flight, who had put an end to what sounded like a treasured memory. He felt the strangest urge to apologise, despite knowing for a fact that he had not personally had a hand in any of this, and even the loss in question had been a simple loss of a snow day ten years ago. He seemed to find he felt responsible for the errors of his flight, no matter how minor they may seem.

Anduin, oblivious to Wrathion's internal battle, continued talking. “Maybe I could take you to Ironforge someday. I think you might like it, despite it’s temperatures.”

“Perhaps,” Wrathion agreed. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“I hope you stay until next year’s Winter Veil,” Anduin said vaguely. He reached over and took Wrathion’s hand in his own, linking their fingers together. He looked at their joined hands as he spoke, “I’d hate to lose your company.”

Wrathion blinked, looking at his hand caught in Anduin’s. He worried idly about his claws scratching Anduin’s soft skin. Anduin was acting strangely again. This had been the third time today he’d had that thought. These gestures seemed almost… romantic. Wrathion’s heart seemed to stop.

Was Anduin flirting with him?

“Are you flirting with me?” Wrathion asked bluntly, his tongue far too tied up for his usual subtleties.

Anduin laughed, looking down into his lap. His hair fell in front of his eyes, covering them. “I have been for some time,” Anduin said. “Glad you finally caught on.”

Wrathion frowned. ‘Some time’, what did that mean. He thought back and realised that this wasn’t the first time Anduin had acted like this. He’d been doing it since _at least_ Hallow’s End. In _October_.

“Is it making you uncomfortable?” Anduin suddenly asked. He moved to remove his hand from Wrathion. “I can stop if you’re not interested. I just thought… ah, I don’t know what I thought,” Anduin said, shaking his head.

Wrathion’s grip on Anduin’s hand tightened, stopping him from pulling away. “No. I just had not noticed before.” Wrathion snorted, laughing at himself, “I can’t believe you of all people managed to fool _me."_

Anduin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I like you, Wrathion. There, is that obvious enough for you?” He said lightly, his tone jovial.

Wrathion laughed, the sound a little nervous. “If it’s any consolation I do find myself feeling the same for you.”

“Oh,” Anduin said.

“Oh, indeed,” Wrathion replied.

There was a pause, both looking at each other for the first time since their confession.

“I must admit I’m not entirely sure how to proceed,” Anduin said.

“I hear it’s customary in this moment for people to kiss.”

Anduin blinked. “Would you like me to kiss you?”

Wrathion gave a crooked smile. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

It was Anduin who made the first move, shifting closer on the grass. He brought his hand to Wrathion’s cheek, feeling the draconic warmth emanating from his skin. He looked to Wrathion’s eyes, the glowly crimson dimming as they became half-lidded. He then looked to Wrathion’s lips, biting his own.

His mind was a mess, anxiety shooting through him. He surged forward, trying to outrun his own fear by giving those thoughts no time to fester. Wrathion made a noise as their lips collided, surprised at Anduin’s speed.

Wrathion sighed through his nose, a tension he’d not known he’d been holding draining from him. He let his eyes slip closed, trusting Anduin completely.

Anduin’s lips were soft, if a little chapped from the cold. Wrathion reached his hand out and let it rest on Anduin’s hip, centering him.

They stayed pressed like that for some time before they had to pull away for breath. Wrathion made a keening noise ss they parted that he was embarrassingly aware that he’d made. Anduin, however, thankfully made no mention of it.

Anduin leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Wrathion’s. It was warm in Wrathion’s company, his inhuman heat chasing away the nipping chill of the snow. Anduin sighed, content. He smiled.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Anduin confessed.

Wrathion snorted, a puff of smoke curling from his nostrils. “As have I.”

Anduin pulled back, moving his head from Wrathion’s but still staying close enough to feel his breath.

“What a pair of fools we’ve been.”

Wrathion smiled. “Fools we have been indeed,” he said, “But there’s no one else I’d rather be foolish with.”

Anduin rolled his eyes. “You have such a way with words.”

“What can I say, I have a gift.”

Anduin laughed. He found Wrathion’s hand and linked their fingers. Wrathion couldn’t help but smile as he felt their hands intertwine.

“How are we going to explain this one to my Father?” Anduin mumbled. Wrathion could feel Anduin’s thumb moving against the top of his hand, the touch muted by the fabric of his glove.

“That,” Wrathion started, “That I do not have an answer for.”

Anduin looked up at him then. “Is this a bad idea?”

“Yes,” Wrathion said. “Yes.” Then he paused, gripping Anduin’s hand much tighter. “But I don’t think I could bare to let you go now that I have you.”

Anduin hummed, seeming to agree. He leaned against Wrathion’s shoulder, pressing close as though huddling for warmth. But Wrathion knew it was more than that, more than a simple quest for heat. It was affection, something Wrathion had yet to become used to. It made him feel giddy. It made him feel powerful.

Anduin sighed, looking up. It had begun to grow especially dark, the winter days so much shorter. The lights in Stormwind were brighter than ever. Anduin could still hear caroling from Old Town below, as well as the distant sound of fireworks from the Stormwind Gate.

“Happy Winter’s Veil, Wrathion.”

“And you, my dear Prince.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @yuliciagames on twitter if you wanna come say hi!


End file.
